Call Me Sam
by Quixotically
Summary: A sequel to Just Part of the Job.  Sam gets a phone call.  Sam/OC
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: This is a sequel to Just Part of the Job. If you haven't read it, you won't know what's going on in this story, so I strongly suggest you read it first. This story is light romantic fluff and again not McSwarek. If you liked the way Just Part of the Job ended, don't read this one.

Please review, and please give me suggestions on how to improve!

* * *

Sam slapped the file folder down with a satisfying thwack against the folders on his desk. He counted the four files and then looked over at the pile on the other side of his desk. He let out an audible groan at the large stack of unfinished reports still waiting for him.

"Pile not getting any smaller?" Andi asked, not even looking up from her desk.

Sam looked over at his partner as he sat back. "I hate writing reports," he muttered, rubbing his hands over his face. He gave his chair a push and it rolled over to Andi's desk. She also had an impressive pile on one side of her desk and a smaller pile on the other. "We are going to be here forever," Sam said, eying her pile.

"Not me," she answered, dropping another finished report onto the large pile.

Sam clapped his hands together, making Andi jump. "Great! Then you can take half of my pile and we will be out of here in no time at all!"

Andi looked up at him, an exasperated but fond look on her face. "I don't think so, Sam. Nice try though," she said, tucking her bangs behind her ear.

Sam's face quickly changed into pleading. "Come on, Andi. You are so much faster at this than I am. You'd really be helping me out." He smiled at her hopefully.

"Your pile isn't getting any smaller, sir," she said pointedly, pulling out the next file.

Sam sighed and rolled back to his desk. He was just about to take a file from the pile when his cell phone rang. "Saved by the bell," he said, grinning at Andi. He took out his phone and opened it up. "Swarek."

"Hello, Officer Swarek," came a female voice from the other end of the phone. "I'm not sure if you remember me or not. My name is Rachel Johnson. Two years ago you stayed with me while I was trapped in my truck under a trailer." The voice paused, waiting for his response.

"Of course I remember you," Sam said, grinning. He glanced over at Andi who rolled her eyes. He knew exactly what she was thinking, that a past lady friend was calling him. He winked and played it up a little, stretching back in his chair. "It's great to hear from you." Andi shook her head and went back to her reports.

"Thanks," Rachel answered. "Do you remember that you gave me one of your business cards and told me that if I had a police matter to call you first?"

"Yes, I remember," he answered.

"Well, I have an issue but I don't know how serious it is."

"Tell me about it, and I'll see what I can do," he promised, reaching for the pen on his desk.

"My sister Sally, the one you met at the hospital, phoned me a couple of minutes ago hysterical because her little two year old found a gun in her garden next to the alley." She quickly rushed to add, "I don't know if it's real or just a toy, but Sally was a complete basket case and refused to go back and look at it."

"That sounds pretty serious," Sam said, all traces of humour gone. "I'm glad you called me. What's her address?" He wrote down the house and street number. "That's in Division 15's area. I know the street," he said, ripping the paper off. "I'll go check it out with McNally, okay?" Andi glanced up, curiosity on her face.

"That's great, but are you sure? I mean, I'm not taking you away from anything important, am I?" she asked, concerned.

"I'm doing paper work," he said with amusement. "Believe me, any excuse would be a great one to get out of here."

"Okay, thank you. Could you call me when you've taken a look at the gun. Sally isn't going to be a lot of help to you." She gave a small exasperated chuckle. "She's pregnant again and her husband is away on domestic assignment for a couple of days, so she's riding a wicked hormonal wave. What little emotional control she had has been completely wiped away by this whole gun thing."

"Sure, no problem. We're leaving right away. I should call you back in twenty minutes or so."

"Thank you, Officer Swarek. I appreciate it."

Sam hung up the phone and grabbed his keys. "Come on, McNally. We've been saved from paper work. I'll explain as we go."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"I guess Sally has some money too," Andi commented, looking up at the large, immaculately kept brick house.

"Yeah, not exactly shabby," Sam answered, walking up the curved flagstone walkway. He hadn't quite reached the porch when the door was flung open and a red haired woman came flying out with a child on her hip. She launched herself into his arms before he had time to brace himself and he barely managed to keep from tumbling backwards with her.

"I knew you'd come," she cried, holding onto him frantically. "Rachel said she'd call you and I knew you'd come!"

"Sally," Sam said, carefully trying to extricate himself from her arms, all the while making sure she wasn't going to drop the dark haired boy she was carrying. "Sally, calm down. We're here and we're going to check things out, okay?"

"Thank you," she said, stepping back. She wiped her red tear filled eyes and took a deep breath. "I'm not as good at dealing with things like this as Rachel is. I almost had a heart attack when Joey here called me over to ask what that thing in the garden was."

"Did he touch it?" Sam asked, giving the child a smile. The young boy turned green eyes on Sam and shyly smiled back at him.

"No," Sally quickly said. "I would have had a heart attack if he'd done that."

"Is there any chance at all of it being your husband's gun? I remember that he's a soldier, right?" Sam asked.

"No, Shaun never brings his guns home at all. He leaves them on base." Sally hugged her son close to her. "I made it clear when we got married that I never wanted to see a gun in our house."

"Why don't you show us where the gun is," Sam said, nodding towards the house.

"Okay," she said, leading them up the stairs and into the house. They passed through the lobby and into a large family room that was filled with toys. On the other side she opened a patio door and led them out onto a cedar deck. "Over there." She pointed to a large flower bed against the back fence. "It's by that large yellow rose."

"Okay. McNally, why don't you stay here with Sally and Joey, and I'll go take a look."

"Yes, sir," Andi answered.

Sam walked across the yard, fervently hoping that the gun was just a toy that some kid had tossed over the fence when it didn't work anymore. He stepped into the bed, carefully trying to avoid stepping on some delicate looking flowers that were in his way. The glint of sun off metal caught his eye and he hunkered down to look at the object in front of him. He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. This was definitely not a toy. The gun was a high powered semi automatic handgun. Whoever threw this gun over the fence was getting rid of it for a reason.

He stood up and looked over at Andi, giving her a small head shake, letting her know that it wasn't a toy. Then he pulled out his cell phone.

"Barber."

"Jerry, I need your help," Sam said, looking over the fence for anything else that might help him figure out who threw the gun away.

"Shoot."

He gave Jerry the address of the house he was at. "Have there been any homicides or assaults in this area?"

"Please tell me you've found a gun!" Jerry said quickly, his voice hopeful.

"Yeah, I have."

"What caliber?"

"9mm. It's a Beretta PX4."

"Sammy, I could kiss you. You've probably just found the murder weapon of a double murder two blocks away from where you are. Has it been touched?"

"Not according to the owner of the house. Her two year old kid found it," Sam said, glancing over at Sally who was nervously bouncing Joey on her hip.

"Alright. Secure the area. I'm getting a team and we'll be out there as soon as we can."

"You got it," Sam answered, ending the call. He quickly browsed through his received numbers until he found Rachel's number.

"Hello?"

"Rachel, it's a real gun," Sam said, rubbing a hand through his hair.

"You're kidding me," Rachel gasped.

"Wish I was," he said, looking down at the weapon lying on the ground.

"Okay," she said, taking a deep breath, "what now?"

"There's a forensic team coming to pick up the gun and sweep the area for evidence." He looked over at Sally. "I haven't told Sally yet about the forensic team."

"Let me," Rachel said. "I'll get her to pack a bag and come to the farm to stay with me until Shaun gets back." She sighed. "Never a dull moment with our family."

"I've noticed this," Sam said dryly.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Sam leaned against a table with Andi three days later, listening to the detectives going over the evidence that had been gathered by the forensic team from Sally's garden. The detectives sounded confident that they finally had the proof they needed to arrest the brother of the murder victims.

Andi grinned and gave his shoulder a nudge with her own. "Looks like a slam dunk," she said.

"Yeah, looks like we've got the bad guy," he answered.

The door beside them was opened by Oliver. "Um, Sammy, you busy?"

"Nope, why?"

"There's a little hottie asking for you," Shaw answered, nodding his head towards the front desk.

"A hottie?" Sam answered, surprised. His dating life had been pretty slow lately, so he wasn't sure who could be asking for him.

"Oh, yeah." Oliver replied, nodding.

He straightened up with a cocky grin. "Well, I'd better not keep her waiting." Andi rolled her eyes and laughed.

Sam walked to the front desk, aware of Shaw and McNally following at a discreet distance. He couldn't see anyone waiting for him until he was at the counter. There was a woman across the room standing with her back to him, looking at some brochures that they had in a metal stand. He took a moment to study her, trying to recognize her. She had long straight dark brown hair that went to the middle of her back, and she had a strong athletic figure in her jeans and white t-shirt. Despite it being October, she was wearing comfortable sandals. He estimated her age to be late twenties, maybe early thirties. She didn't look familiar at all to him from the back.

"Can I help you, Ma'am?" he asked.

The woman turned around and quickly walked towards him with a large easy smile on her face. "Officer Swarek! Thanks for seeing me."

Sam understood immediately why Oliver had called her a hottie. She was beautiful with warm green eyes, lightly tanned skin, and a strong shapely figure, but her confidence and grace were what elevated her to hottie status. He leaned forward on the desk slightly as she approached, almost unaware that he'd done it. But he still had no idea who she was.

By the time she got to the desk, her smile had turned from welcoming to amused. "You don't recognize me?"

Sam hesitated, studying her face again. It was as he looked at her eyes that he suddenly put two and two together. "Rachel?" he asked, not quite believing that he was right.

"Yes," she laughed, leaning her hip against the counter.

Sam grinned and shook his head. "You look a lot different from the last time I saw you."

Rachel shook her head, "Well, bruises and broken bones are so out of fashion these days."

Sam laughed. "So, how's Sally doing?"

"Much better now that she's back home with her husband. Shaun was able to come home a few days early due to this whole situation. I dropped them off a couple hours ago, and since I was in the area, I thought I'd stop by and say thank you in person." She turned and leaned forward on her arms so that she was a little closer to Sam. "Sally thinks we should hire you as our family police officer. I told her that with our record lately, you wouldn't want to touch us with a ten foot pole."

Sam chuckled, a bit self-consciously.

"Seriously, though," Rachel said, "thank you again. Sally and I are very grateful."

"You're welcome," Sam nodded. He grinned and added, "It's just part of the job."

"Yeah, yeah," Rachel said, waving her hand dismissively. "You can say that as often as you like, and I will still say you do more, or do it better than anyone else." Her gaze went over his shoulder and she asked, "Is that Officer McNally?"

Sam looked over his shoulder to where Andi and Oliver were standing, pretending to be engrossed in a file. "Yeah. Hey, McNally, get over here," he called.

Andi came over and Rachel held out her hand. "Rachel Johnson. Thank you so much for helping us again."

"You're welcome," Andi said, smiling at the other woman.

"I was actually hoping to invite both of you out to dinner or coffee," Rachel continued. "Just a small token of thanks. I know you said two years ago that you probably wouldn't go out to dinner with me, but I'm a little at a loss as to how to thank you this time." She grinned, "I don't think I could renovate your locker rooms or the fitness room as a surprise anymore."

Sam shook his head. "Ah, no. We'd figure it out pretty quick. You really don't have to thank us, you know. That's what we're paid to do."

"I know, but I would love to do it. So, would you be interested in dinner this evening?" Rachel asked, looking expectantly at them. "The more expensive the dinner, the more happy you will make me," she added.

Sam looked at Andi, silently asking her what she thought. She raised her eyebrows in a "why not?" gesture, so he turned to Rachel and said, "Sure, that sounds great."

"Excellent," Rachel replied, pushing back from the counter. "When does your shift end?"

"Seven o'clock," Sam said, noticing that he was looking forward to dinner with her.

"Officer McNally," Oliver said, coming up behind them, "I couldn't help overhear, and I believe you forgot about that...thing you had to help me with. You know, the report thing... that needs to be filed tonight," Oliver said, looking at Andi meaningfully.

Sam looked at Andi's face which registered first confusion and then understanding. "Right! Right, I have to help you with that report thing." She turned apologetically to Rachel. "I'm sorry, I'm going to have to stay late tonight." She put her hand on Sam's arm and added, "I'm sorry I'll miss dinner, but Officer Swarek can fill me in on the details."

Rachel looked at Sam, who wasn't sure which one of them he wanted to kill first, Oliver or Andi. "If you'd rather wait, we can always reschedule for another time," she offered.

"No," Sam said, "it's alright. I'll meet you here at the front desk at seven o'clock."

Rachel smiled and looked at her watch. "See you in three hours." Then with a small wave of her hand to Andi and Oliver, she turned and walked out the door.

The second the door closed behind her, Sam slapped the back of Oliver's head. "What was that all about?" he growled, turning and stalking back towards his desk.

"Ow, and what's wrong with what I did?" Oliver asked, rubbing the back of his head as he and Andi followed him. "Sammy, she's a hottie! And she wants to take you to dinner."

"She is very pretty," Andi commented, sitting down at her own desk, a smirk on her face.

"She asked both of us to dinner," Sam said pointedly, "as a way to say thank you. Now, because of that High School drama that you just put on, it makes dinner... awkward." He grabbed a file and opened it up. "Yes, I am attracted to her. And yes, I'm looking forward to dinner with her. Who wouldn't? But I don't need help getting dates, so back off!"

"Okay, okay," Oliver said, raising his hands. "Seriously though, you should go to this dinner and just enjoy yourself. Forget about our little stunt. She could be the one."

"Oliver, don't you have work to do?" Sam snapped, getting seriously annoyed.

"The woman doth protest too much, methinks," Oliver quoted to Andi, as he walked away.

"What? Now I'm a woman?" he called after the retreating figure.

"If the shoe fits," came back the reply.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Rachel walked into the police station at exactly seven o'clock. She'd changed her sandals for heeled brown leather boots and thrown on a fitted leather jacket. She was looking forward to dinner with Officer Swarek, an opportunity that she would have gladly had two years ago. She wanted to sit down and talk to him without pain or drugs clouding her mind. The little that she remembered of their conversations two years ago had been enjoyable. She was curious to see if his personality was really as she remembered it, or if she'd built him up in her mind. When this situation with Sally and the gun presented itself, Rachel decided to throw caution to the wind and ask him and his partner out for dinner. The worst that they could do was say no, for which she would not be offended. She understood that they needed to be careful about what they said and did so as not to look like they were unprofessional or were being bribed. With Officer McNally along, there wouldn't be any worry on Officer Swarek's part that she was asking him out on a date. Of course, that was no longer relevant, Rachel thought with grin, thinking back to the obvious conniving on his friends' part to get him out with her alone.

She didn't have to wait more than a minute before Officer Swarek walked around the counter dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt and carrying a jacket in his hands. Rachel was a bit surprised as she looked at him. Without his uniform and equipment on, he was actually a lot leaner than she'd originally thought.

"So, where are we going?" he asked, placing a hand on her lower back to usher her out the door.

"I don't know the area very well," Rachel said, "but Sally told me about a pub called O'Malley's a couple of blocks from here that apparently has really good food. Or we can head more downtown to the high end restaurants."

"O'Malley's is great," Swarek said. "I've been there a couple of times and they have a killer steak."

"O'Malley's it is," Rachel said, as they walked across the parking lot.

"Rachel," Swarek said, stopping and taking a deep breath. "I want to apologize for Shaw and McNally earlier..."

"What? You mean there isn't a report thing that has to be filed tonight?" she teased with a grin. "Don't worry, Officer Swarek, I have no ulterior motives for asking you to dinner other than to thank you. I would really just like to sit and talk with you, so please don't worry about it, okay?"

Swarek returned her grin and said, "Sam."

"Pardon?"

"Call me Sam."

"Alright Sam," she said, pleased. "Let's go, because I'm starving. Your vehicle or mine?"

"Mine," Sam answered, and then added with a wink, "I've seen what happens when you drive."

"Hey! That's not fair," Rachel laughed. "It wasn't my driving that caused a semi to land on me!"

The pub turned out to be a wonderful Irish pub with lots of wood and brass. They chose a table in the far corner where it was quiet. Rachel looked around and thought the place was perfect for having a relaxing conversation, and if the smells coming from the kitchen were any indication, the food was going to be good too.

"So, tell me about all the heroic things you've done in the last two years," Rachel said, leaning forward on her elbow and putting her chin on her hand.

"That'll be a short conversation," Sam said, looking at her amused.

"Fine," Rachel answered with a mock sigh. "Then you pick the first topic."

"Actually, I have to know something. I saw an old 4-Runner parked in the visitors parking area at the station when we left." He grinned when she nodded her head. "Seriously? You bought another old 4-Runner?"

"Yes, I love them. Always have. You can't argue that owning that vehicle saved my life."

"True."

"When I reach back for my seatbelt now, I give the rollbar a pat of thanks." Sam chuckled, but nodded in understanding. Rachel continued, "I've owned three late 80's 4-Runners. I usually make some upgrades, like air conditioning, abs brakes, air bags, etc. I even considered putting airbags in the roof this time, but decided that was probably a bit of overkill."

The waitress came up at that moment and took their order. They both ordered the special which was steak with roasted potatoes and spanish green beans. The waitress wrote down their order, gave Sam a casual wink and walked away.

Rachel chuckled, "Maybe she'll give you her number when we leave."

Sam glanced over his shoulder at the retreating blonde haired waitress before shrugging indifferently. "Not my type."

"What is your type?" Rachel asked, and then quickly blushed and held up her hand. "Sorry, you don't have to answer that."

Sam leaned back in his chair with a lazy smile. "Since you are bringing up the whole love life conversation again, can I assume that you still have not found Mr. Right?"

Rachel's blush deepened as she said, "Ah, no, not yet." She gave a wry smile and asked, "No woman and eight kids?" She expected him to try to change the subject, but he just shook his head and gave her a smile that made her stop. Was he... ? No, she was definitely reading him wrong, but it seemed as though he was flirting with her. But then, she didn't really know him, maybe he was a bit of a flirt outside of the work environment. She decided to play on the side of safety and change the subject herself.

"I don't remember too much about our conversation under the trailer," she said, "but I do remember one thing quite clearly."

"What's that?" Sam asked leaning forward.

"For two years now, I've watched every Canucks and Leafs game quite carefully," she said, smirking. "How exactly can you explain the fact that the Canucks have won every game except one?"

Sam groaned and closed his eyes. "Pure luck," he said, shrugging.

They had a good natured argument about hockey and whose team was truly the better one until their meals arrived. Rachel watched as Sam avoided each of the not too subtle flirting attempts by the waitress. If nothing else, he was a true gentleman.

"So, how are the rich kids?" Sam asked as soon as they were alone again.

Rachel laughed. "Oh, about the same as always. They come, get on the horse, ride around, get off the horse and leave. What a waste of money. Although, since the money is coming my way, I'm not really complaining too much." She shook her head. "To be fair, there is one girl that I absolutely love to teach. She loves horses and is a natural rider. She soaks up anything I can teach her like a sponge. Her mom is great too. They've become quite good friends of mine." She took a bite of her steak and moaned. "This is amazing!"

"Told you," Sam said. "Are you still doing the therapy riding?"

"Of course," she replied, "it's my passion. We are up to twelve kids every Saturday morning, which is our limit. Do you know anything about therapy riding?"

"No, I'm afraid not."

"It's excellent physical therapy for the physically handicapped kids. The motion of the horse gently stretches and strengthens their muscles, and the kids quickly develop a better sense of balance. But it's the mental and emotional development that is really the most amazing part. Sometimes it's hard to encourage a child with disabilities to really try their hardest in a therapy room, but put them on a horse and all of a sudden they are trying really hard to tell the horse what they want it to do. And you should see their faces when they understand that the horse loves them unconditionally. A horse doesn't care whether a person is imperfect in any way. In fact, I am certain that all my therapy horses know that the kids are needing love and protection. It's a herd instinct to protect an injured or crippled member. I can see them doing the same thing with these kids."

"Really?" Sam said, sounding surprised. "I wouldn't think the horses would have that kind of connection to a human."

"Yeah, they do," Rachel answered. "It's actually quite astounding and a beautiful thing to see. Not every horse is cut out to be a therapy horse. They have different personalities just like people, but a great therapy horse is worth it's weight in gold."

"Huh, I'd have never guessed. Tell me about your farm."

"It's 70 acres," she answered, taking another bite of her steak and enjoying it before she continued. "The main business is breeding Friesian horses. We have two stallions standing at stud and about twenty six brood mares. I've hired a manager to deal with most of that so that I can focus on the schooling and therapy horses." She shrugged. "If you're interested, you could come out and take a look for yourself." Rachel looked down at her food and very carefully cut two of her spanish beans, wondering how he was going to take her invitation. She glanced up and found him looking at her with that amazing smile of his.

"Sounds good, but I have to warn you, I'm a city boy. I know absolutely nothing about farms or animals."

"I love challenges," she answered, grinning back at him. "Don't worry, I'll teach you everything you need to know and more. You are in good hands."

"I have no doubt about that," he answered, winking at her.

Rachel started to feel warm all over and turned back to her meal. Things were not going the way she was expecting. She had not expected him to be so ….. flirty? Charming? She wasn't sure exactly what he was, but it was giving her warm tingles.

They settled into a comfortable silence for a few minutes, concentrating on their food. When they were finished, they talked about every day things. About an hour later, Rachel leaned back and said, "I know that you probably can't talk too much about what you do as a Police Officer, but can you tell me what a typical shift is like?"

"No two days are ever the same," Sam said with a wry smile. "Normally, McNally and I get our orders and head out in our cruiser. Some days are slow and our biggest excitement is figuring out where we are going to stop to eat. Other days we are rushing around trying to solve the world's problems in one ten hour shift. Those days either make you happy you're a cop, or make you wonder about your sanity." He paused, an unreadable emotion crossing his face and Rachel thought he looked tired. The look passed quickly and he carried on, "I've done some undercover work, but in general though, we are settling domestic disputes, going to car accidents, working B&E's, that sort of thing."

"What's the hardest thing to deal with?" Rachel asked, leaning forward, trying to read the emotions crossing his face.

"Anything to do with kids," he answered. "They are so innocent and they get dragged through hell. It just makes me angry." He shook his head.

"I can't even imagine what that would be like," Rachel murmured, sympathetically.

He smiled and shrugged. "Just part of the job."

Rachel snorted. "A pretty crappy part."

"It can't all be saving beautiful women trapped in vehicles flattened by semi trailers," he answered with a smile, an obvious attempt at lightening the conversation.

Rachel laughed. "As I recall, you froze your butt off. That wasn't all that pleasant."

He gave a dismissive hand gesture. "What's a little cold to someone as awesome as me?"

Rachel looked at him and then rolled her eyes. "Really? Did I seriously just hear you say that you were awesome?"

He innocently nodded. "What? You don't agree?"

Rachel groaned and laughed. "Hey, buddy, you weren't the one actually pinned in the truck. I think of the two of us, I was the awesome one. I totally didn't freak out... well, not too much."

"Huh," Sam teased, "I recall you freaking out a lot and only my awesome presence calming you down. Face it, sweetheart, I'm more awesome than you."

Rachel tilted her head to the side and smiled. She couldn't remember enjoying herself more. This funny teasing side of Sam was something she'd only caught a glimpse of two years ago. Dinner with Sam was everything she'd hoped it would be and so much more. "Sam," she said, smiling, "you know what? I take it back. You are pretty awesome. Arrogant, cocky, but awesome."

Sam laughed and gave a small bow. "I always said you were a smart lady." He looked at his watch and asked, "How long does it take you to get home?"

"An hour," she answered, looking at her watch as well. She was surprised to see that it was already ten o'clock.

"We should probably get going then," Sam said. "I don't want you driving that long late at night."

Rachel paused, wondering if she should be insulted, irritated or both. It had been a long time since anyone had tried to tell her when or where she should do what. To her surprise, she didn't feel any of those things. Another warm tingle went through her as she realized that she liked the fact that he was concerned for her safety and was watching out for her. Still, she couldn't help getting another snide remark in. "But, Officer, my parents know where I am. I'm not late for curfew."

Sam chuckled. "Like I've never heard that one before."

Rachel settled the bill and they walked out of the pub and across the parking lot towards his truck.

"So, how is Friday?" Sam asked, out of the blue. "I don't have to work."

Rachel was completely thrown off by what he was saying. Was he asking her on a date? Had she missed something? She thought back over the last few minutes, trying to understand what he was talking about. "Friday?"

Sam chuckled, obviously enjoying her confusion. "Are you taking back your invitation for me to visit your farm?"

"Oh," Rachel said, relief flooding through her. "Of course! Sorry, I blanked there for a second." She quickly thought about her day on Friday and then nodded. "Friday would be perfect. If you wanted to show up around 10 o'clock, all the chores will be done and I could show you around. Then we could have lunch. I don't have anything planned until 3 o'clock when I have to give two lessons. You would be welcome to stay and watch if you liked."

"I'll be there at 10 o'clock," Sam said, opening the door of the truck for her.

Rachel climbed in and buckled up. She took a deep breath and folded her hands in her lap. Normally, she projected a very calm, confident persona to the world, but right now she felt more like a school girl with a crush. She willed her happily beating heart to slow as Sam started the truck. He looked at her with a dimpled smile and she gave up trying to slow it down as it raced on. She shook her head and chuckled, turning to look out the window as they drove along.

Suddenly, Friday was looking really good.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Sam pulled through the gate of the address that Rachel had given him. He let a low whistle through his teeth as he took in the house and outlying buildings behind it. He felt like he'd driven into one of those high class racing farms in Kentucky that he saw on the TV when he was betting on the horses. The house was large and beautiful, and all the landscaping was obviously professionally done. There were pastures on one side of the driveway, and fenced riding rings on the other. He'd known Rachel had money, but he hadn't been expecting this level of wealth.

Sam suddenly felt out of place and wondered what the heck he was doing here, until he saw Rachel sitting on the front steps lacing up a pair of hiking boots. He parked his truck and sat for a moment watching her. She gave a quick wave before working on her second boot. Somehow, watching her sit there, doing something so normal as tie her boots made him feel better. She didn't act wealthy, in fact she seemed to go out of her way to appear the opposite. She was just... Rachel. He had totally enjoyed dinner with her a couple of days before, and had been looking forward to spending more time with her. He'd already made up his mind that he wanted to ask her out on a proper date, and was looking forward to doing a bit of charming today.

He got out of the truck as she hopped to her feet and gracefully walked towards him. She was dressed in jeans and had a warm vest zipped up over a long sleeved shirt. She was beautiful. "So," he said, looking up at the house as she approached him, "you're really loaded."

Rachel paused, her face uncertain. "Yes, does that bother you?"

"If you were someone else, it probably would," he answered honestly. "But not you."

She gave him a brilliant smile and said, "Grab your jacket and I'll take you through the barns first."

He reached in and grabbed a fleece to throw over the long sleeved t-shirt that he'd worn with jeans. She led him around the side of the house and back towards the two large stables that dominated at least an acre of space.

For the next hour and a half, Sam learned more than he ever thought he could about horses and what it took to run a successful breeding farm. He was surprised to find that it wasn't as bad as he'd thought it would be. Okay, so the barns had a fairly strong odor when he first walked in, and that one horse went and blew it's nose all over him, but all in all, it was actually quite interesting. Rachel was proud of her horses and it showed in the way she dealt with them, stopping to pat each one of them as they passed by.

It wasn't until they were standing in front of Rachel's prized stallion in the middle of his corral that Sam's city roots dug in and no matter what, he was determined not to go anywhere near that animal. The horse was huge, and like all her other Friesens, was coal black in color. Sam took one look at the size of the horse's feet and decided that one of those to the head meant certain death.

"Regent won't hurt you," Rachel insisted, wrapping her arms around the massive stallion's neck and giving him a hug. "Friesens are known for their gentle nature."

"No offense," Sam said, taking a step towards the fence, "but I'll just stay over here."

"City slicker," Rachel teased.

"And proud of it," Sam answered, taking another step away as Regent stretched his nose towards him. "What's he doing?" he asked, his voice rising an octave.

"He's just trying to figure out what you are doing," she answered, grinning. She ran her hands down the horse's neck with a final pat before turning and walking towards the gate. Sam was planning on walking with her until Regent started to follow and Sam took off running and quickly went through the gate. He turned to hear Rachel burst into laughter.

"Laugh all you want," he said, just relieved to be on the right side of the fence again.

"Sorry," she said, closing the gate behind her and trying not to laugh. "It's just you are a big tough policeman with a gun, and you are running away like a little girl."

"A little girl? For your information," he replied, "I wouldn't have run if I was carrying my gun."

"Ah," she teased, "so it's just your gun that makes you tough."

"Yes," he answered, and crossed his arms in front of him with a cocky grin. "When I have my gun, I'm tough as nails, and when I'm not carrying then I'm all sweetness and sensitivity."

"That," Rachel laughed, "is a load of crock." She turned and led the way back towards the house. "Come on. I told Wanita that we would be in around now for lunch."

"Wanita?"

Rachel smiled and looked sheepish. "Yeah, my old nanny. She became part of the family. When Sally and I moved out here to Ontario from British Columbia, she came with us. She does all the house work and cooking for me so that I can concentrate on the farm." She made a gesture towards the large house. "That place is a full time job to keep clean."

"It's really amazing," Sam said.

"It's designed to be that way," Rachel answered. "I have hundreds of people coming here every year, some for expensive riding lessons and some for my breeding stock. They all expect to see a certain level of wealth which is a symbol of success in our industry. " She looked around her. "The barns and everything to do with the horses is what I designed myself when I bought this land, but the house and gardens were designed by someone else. If I had my way, I'd rather live in a nice little house with a small garden."

"I can see that in you," Sam answered, giving her a smile.

Rachel returned his smile and led him into the house through the back door. Inside, they passed through a large kitchen that had a delicious smell wafting from the oven. She led them through a large sitting room and out the far door into a glass enclosed solarium. The room looked out over the immaculately kept gardens, and was full itself of plants and flowers. In the middle of the room was a table set for two. Just straightening up from the table was a slight, dark haired latin woman in her late forties or early fifties. She turned to face Sam and looked him over from top to bottom before looking deep into his eyes. Sam felt as though she was trying to see into his mind.

"Wanita, be nice," Rachel chided, walking over to give her nanny a hug.

Wanita, apparently satisfied, stepped to the side and motioned them to have a seat. "Lunch come soon. Sit. Talk." Then she briskly walked towards the door.

Sam sat down and watched the older woman leave. "Protective, isn't she?"

Rachel shook her head. "Sorry about that. Wanita feels it's her duty to look out for me."

Wanita returned shortly with a caramelized carrot soup. Since Sam's regular meals consisted of take out, hamburgers, or steak and potatoes, he tasted the soup hesitantly. It was amazing and he quickly finished it off. When Wanita placed a plate of rosemary roasted potatoes, beets au gratin, and three rolls of rouladen in front of him, he didn't even pause as he eagerly scooped up some beets.

"This is amazing," he said, savoring a mouthful.

"Yeah, Wanita can cook," Rachel answered, holding a forkful of potatoes. "Normally I get her to make me a sandwich, otherwise I'd be four hundred pounds."

They finished their meal in a comfortable silence. Sam leaned back with a sigh and watched Rachel finish her last few bites. He was just starting to get to know her, but he already knew that he liked what he saw in her. She could talk about anything, but seemed just as comfortable not talking. And she was so emotionally level, he could hardly believe it. After a hard week at work, just sitting with her was relaxing, unlike most of the women he dated. He'd always seemed to find the high maintenance women, but from what he could tell, Rachel was about as low maintenance as they came.

"So, how bad was it going back to work after our dinner?" Rachel asked, breaking his train of thought.

"What?"

"Did your friends tease you?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Ah, Shaw and McNally," he said, chuckling. "Yeah, they interrogated me fairly well. But all I'd tell them was that I had a very nice time." He looked at her and winked. "I didn't tell them that I was coming here today. The teasing would have been merciless." He didn't mention to Rachel that everybody had been commenting on his good mood for the last few days. Even Best had asked if something was going on.

As he watched Rachel laugh, he felt confident that something was indeed going on between them, but unlike most times when he would make his move and then move on, Sam didn't feel the need to rush or the urge to move on. He wanted strings with Rachel, and he wanted something to last. He didn't know how he knew all this after so short a time, but what he felt was different, deeper than what he'd felt for anyone else. She'd been worth waiting for.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Rachel zipped up her knee high leather riding boots and grabbed her helmet from the shelf in the closet. She slipped the strap over her arm and walked out to where Sam was waiting for her. She'd changed her jeans for a pair of dark blue jodhpurs in case she had to jump on the horse during the lesson she was going to give in a few minutes.

Sam had been looking out at the pasture where three of her Friesens were playing when he heard her and turned around. He let out a low whistle and said, "Love the pants and boots."

"Seriously the worst part about riding English," she muttered, blushing self-consciously.

"You'll be getting no complaints from me," Sam said, grinning at her.

"Oh, enough already," she said, embarrassed but pleased that he seemed attracted to her. "Come on, it looks as though Connor is ready to go." She walked towards the riding ring on the right side of the driveway with Sam falling in step beside her. In the ring was Connor, one of her worst students riding her gentle mare Star. She chastised herself mentally, trying to put herself in a proper frame of mind for teaching. Connor was difficult to teach because he didn't want to be here. He told her on several occasions that he would rather be sitting at home with his video games. His parents forced him to come. Rachel sighed, the next hour was going to be painful, made all the worse by Sam having to watch.

She motioned to the bleachers placed along the long side of the ring. "Feel free to grab a seat," she said. "There won't be any huge excitement in this lesson."

Sam looked out on the ring and watched the boy give Star a half-hearted kick to get her moving. "Yeah, he doesn't look like a real firecracker, does he?"

"No, but take a look at the mother," she muttered, nodding towards the end of the bleachers where a woman in a business suit was sitting with a cell phone in one hand and an open laptop on her knees. She was gesturing frantically in the air and her voice was steadily rising until they could clearly hear her tearing a strip off of a secretary or personal assistant.

"Charming," Sam said sarcastically.

"The majority of the parents that come are like her," Rachel said, shaking her head. She hooked her helmet strap on the railing of the ring and ducked underneath so that she was standing in the sand. "It makes me sad." She looked over her shoulder at Connor before turning back to Sam. "I've got to get on with this lesson, but feel free to leave at any time if you have to go."

"I'm not going anywhere," he answered matter of factly, leaning on the railing, "unless you tell me to go."

Rachel paused, blushed again, and then grinned. "And why would I do that?" She turned and walked towards the middle of the ring. "Talk to you in an hour then," she called back over her shoulder.

She was twenty minutes into the lesson when she called Connor to her, to show him for what seemed like the hundredth time where his leg should be positioned. She looked up at him to find him staring at Sam who was sprawled across the top three levels of the bleacher, looking relaxed and at ease.

"Is that your boyfriend?" Connor asked, looking down at her.

"No," she answered, "that's a friend of mine who happens to be a Police Officer." She didn't know why she added the comment about him being a Police Officer, but from Connnor's reaction, she was glad she had.

"Really?" he said, looking back at Sam with interest. "I want to be a Police Officer."

"No kidding?" Rachel said, surprised. She thought quickly before she continued, "You know, if you are an RCMP Officer and know how to ride, you could join the Musical Ride."

Connor continued looking at Sam as he thought about what she'd said. "You have to know how to ride really well to do that, though, don't you?"

"Yep, you do," she answered, holding her breath.

He looked down at his legs, making sure they were in the right position, picked up his reins and with a determined look, sent Star forward at a brisk walk.

Rachel almost did a happy dance right there in the middle of the ring. She was grinning from ear to ear as she called out commands to the boy and he actually listened to her and began to ride well. Twenty minutes later she was interrupted by Connor's mother calling from the edge of the ring.

"The lesson is over," she snapped, angrily. "I'm sorry, Rachel, but we have to go. The morons in my office are completely incapable of dealing with the simplest things." When Connor didn't immediately jump off the horse, the woman said, "_Now_, Connor." She turned and walked towards her car, pulling out her cell phone again.

"Sorry, Rachel," Connor said, dismounting and handing her the reins.

"That's okay, Connor. You did great today, by the way."

"Thanks, I'll see you next Monday," he said, hurrying towards the edge of the ring.

As she started to lead Star towards the gate, she felt a familiar twinge of pain in her leg. She sighed, the pain was starting earlier today, and she still had one more lesson to go.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"But I'm not RCMP," Sam laughed, as he leaned against the ring rail, having listened to Rachel tell him about how she had finally connected with Connor.

"Obviously," she said, rolling her eyes, "but I wasn't about to tell him that." She turned her attention towards the mother and daughter who were leading a large white horse towards them. "This is Nicole and her mother Ellen. I love teaching Nicole. She's a natural and she loves horses." She waved at them as they paused by the ring gate and the mother gave her daughter a boost up onto the horse. Rachel pushed away from the ring rail. "See you in an hour."

Sam grinned, "I'll be counting the minutes."

Rachel laughed as she walked away. "Yeah, whatever."

Sam shook his head with a chuckle as he jogged back up the bleachers to the spot he'd sat before. He stretched out, wondering when he'd ever felt so relaxed or so happy. He certainly never thought he'd be content to watch a horseback riding lesson, that's for sure.

The mother of the girl walked to the bleachers, and with a friendly smile climbed the steps to sit next to him. "Hi, I'm Ellen."

"Sam," he answered, reaching out to shake her hand.

"So, are you a friend of Rachel's?" she asked with curiosity.

"Yes," he answered, his eyes twinkling.

"Boyfriend?" she asked, with surprise.

"Not yet," he said, with a cocky grin.

Ellen laughed. "Love the attitude!" She shook her head, "Well, Rachel deserves to have a boyfriend so I wish you the best of luck."

They watched Nicole ride around the ring with Ellen explaining what Rachel was teaching Nicole and her horse Justice. Sam listened and nodded, but he honestly couldn't figure out what was going on. All he could tell was that Nicole and the horse looked comfortable together and were obviously miles ahead of what Connor had been learning. After a half an hour or so, Sam noticed Rachel rubbing her thigh in a subconscious gesture. He sat forward with concern when she did it again less than a minute later. The next time she did it, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small pill bottle and popped two pills into her mouth, never taking her eyes off the girl and the horse.

"They're Tylenol," Ellen said. Sam looked questioningly at her. "The pills, they're Tylenol. I'm guessing from your reaction that Rachel hasn't told you about the horrific car accident she was in two years ago." She leaned her elbows back on the bleacher behind her. "She has several plates and pins in her left leg because the accident shattered her thigh in three different places. She went through three surgeries to make it right. It still bothers her a lot."

"She never told me," Sam muttered, angry that Rachel hadn't told him the extent of her injuries.

"That doesn't surprise me," Ellen answered, "Rachel never complains about physical pain. The accident is also something she doesn't like to relive. She was driving on the freeway during the winter and a semi trailer careened over a barrier and landed on her truck. She was trapped underneath the trailer, not able to move for 3-4 hours." She paused to shake her head. "She'd broken her arm and her leg and had tonnes of cuts and bruises. Can you imagine? It must have been horrible."

Sam stayed silent, listening to the story he knew perfectly well. He could picture all too clearly the pain and panic on Rachel's face as she lay trapped.

"Anyway, one of the policemen at the scene crawled underneath and stayed with her the entire time she was trapped. He talked to her and held her hand to keep her from going into shock." Ellen paused and then said with a grin, "Rachel would kill me for saying this, but if you have any competition at all, it's going to be from the memory of her miracle man."

"Her what?" Sam said with a laugh, surprised.

"Her miracle man. Rachel talks about the policeman with nothing but respect and admiration. He has become her ideal of what a man should be."

"Oh, great," Sam muttered, wondering if he was more embarrassed or thrilled that Rachel had not only thought about him, but had considered him admirable.

"Don't worry," Ellen laughed, misunderstanding his comment. "If Rachel invited you here, then you have obviously passed whatever test she may have had for you." She pointed to Rachel. "Look, do you see what she is doing?"

Sam turned his eyes to Rachel and noticed right away that even though her focus was on the girl and horse, she was holding her left hand in her right and was rubbing her thumb across the back of it.

"The policeman rubbed her hand like that, to help her focus on something other than the pain." Ellen grinned. "You might want to try that on her, she'd probably love it."

"Really?" Sam answered, grinning back at her, wondering what other tidbits of information Ellen could have.

"Yeah. Through her recovery, the nightmares from the accident, and the intense physio she had to go through, she'd rub her hand like that to help with the pain and to keep calm." Ellen gestured out at Rachel. "Believe me, this guy did more for her than just sit with her for a few hours. He gave her a coping mechanism for her recovery."

"Really?" Sam said again, amazed at what he was hearing.

"I'm not telling you this to gossip or to discourage you," Ellen said, putting a hand on his arm. "But I want you to understand some of the things that Rachel isn't likely to tell you. The accident has had a big impact on her life."

"Being trapped inside a truck for five hours can change things," Sam acknowledged.

"It was three to four hours," Ellen corrected him, "but that's still a horrifically long time."

"No," Sam said, smirking at her, "it was five hours and ten minutes from the time the trailer landed on her until they'd cut her free from the truck. I know exactly how horrifically long it was." Ellen looked blankly at him. "It was very cold and wet under the trailer," he added, with a lazy smile.

Ellen looked at him in confusion for a moment before understanding slowly dawned on her face. "Get out of here! You are the Police Officer?" she cried, a happy smile on her face. When he winked at her she laughed. Then she hit him on the arm. "Why didn't you say something? I've been rambling on and you know the story way better than I do."

"I only know about the accident. I didn't know about the extent of her injuries or how hard it has been on her for the last couple of years." Sam looked out at Rachel. "I really didn't do anything, she was the amazing one."

"Wow," Ellen said, taking a deep breath. "This is better than a romance novel." She looked at him thoughtfully. "I can't wait to see where this goes."

"You and me both," he answered, with a smile.

When the lesson was over, Sam and Ellen went down to the gate together. Rachel came and leaned against the railing next to him. As if he'd done it a thousand times, he reached over and took her hand in his and began rubbing the back with his thumb. He watched as Rachel froze for a second, her eyes glued to their hands.

"Well, we need to go," Ellen said brightly, grinning at Sam. He gave her an answering smile and a quick wink.

Rachel glanced up at them, her face unreadable. "Oh, right," she said. She gave her head a small shake and said, "Thanks, Nicole. You did great. Keep working on your flexion during your side pass and you'll do great at that Junior Dressage Show next weekend."

Sam and Rachel watched as Ellen hustled Nicole away as quickly as she could. They were walking their horse back towards the barns, when Sam turned towards Rachel. She was looking down at their hands again when she said, "I hope you weren't too bored. Watching a lesson, especially when you don't know what's going on can be a bit tedious."

"It was great to just sit and relax," Sam assured her. Rachel carefully disengaged their hands and ducked awkwardly under the rail. Sam looked carefully at her. He could see from the way she was standing that she was trying not to put too much weight on her left leg. He sighed and without comment leaned down and picked her up in his arms.

"Hey!" she cried out in surprise. "What are you doing?"

"We have a few things to discuss," he said firmly, walking towards the house with her.

"I can walk, you know," she said, a little breathlessly.

Sam looked down at her and answered, "Not without pain you can't."

"I'm going to kill Ellen," she muttered.

"You should have told me about your leg," he said, giving her a stern look.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Why should I?" she asked.

Sam stopped and gently put her down so that she was standing. He straightened and stepped as close to her as he could without actually touching her. "I think you know why," he answered, as he reached out and cupped her face in his hands. Her green eyes went wide and her mouth opened with a small gasp. He gently brushed some stray strands of dark hair off her face, loving the soft feel of silk running through his fingers. She subconsciously ran her tongue over her lips, drawing his attention away from her hair. Lifting his gaze to look to her eyes, he saw the invitation he was looking for. As he slowly lowered his lips to hers, he felt her hands come and rest on his forearms. He gently brushed his lips against hers and he felt her tremble slightly. He couldn't resist any longer and pulled her to him and kissed her the way he wanted to kiss her, long and deep.

When he ran out of breath, he pulled back enough to rest his forehead against hers. "Tell me everything from now on," he said, huskily. "I want to know everything."

"Okay," she answered, breathless. "I can probably manage that."

He chuckled, kissed her one more time and then reached down and picked her up again. "Let's get you inside and on the couch so you can take the weight off of your leg."

"Or you could just carry me around from now on," she said cheekily, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"As much as I'm enjoying this, I'm no miracle man," Sam answered, walking up the steps and stopping outside the door, waiting for her to open it.

"What did you say?" Rachel asked, looking quickly at him.

"I'm no miracle man," Sam answered, winking at her.

"I am so going to kill Ellen," she muttered, opening the door.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Sam whistled a happy tune as he walked from his truck to the personnel door. He sauntered down the hall and into the men's locker room. There he started changing into his uniform.

"Sammy, it's too early in the morning for whistling," Shaw grumbled, giving him a glare.

"It's never too early to whistle," he disagreed, grinning at his grouchy friend.

"What's with you? For the last week you've been walking around like someone made you the king of happy land," Shaw said, leaning over to tie his boots. Suddenly, his head shot up and his hands froze in mid tie. "Wait. _Has_ somebody made you king of happy land?" A slow smile grew on his face. "A dark haired, green eyed hottie, perhaps?"

Sam smiled at him and said, "Well, Zoe might have a particular dark haired, green eyed woman to talk to at our next dinner."

"Get out of town," Shaw said with a laugh. "Details, Swarek, details."

"Nothing much to tell, other than we've hooked up and I think we're both pretty happy about it." He clipped his radio onto his belt and his shoulder.

"See, I told you. I had a feeling about you two the second I saw her," Shaw grinned.

"So quit your job and become a match-maker," Sam teased, walking by and clapping his hand on his friend's shoulder.

Sam went straight to parade and found the corner of his favorite desk. He chatted with a few of the other officers that started filing in shortly after him. He gave Andi a small wave and a smile as she dashed in, last minute as always. She returned his wave and found a seat beside her friend Nash.

Best walked in and went to the front of the room. He began talking, giving orders for the day. Part way through, Sam noticed a general buzz in the room and people began ignoring Best and looking at him. It didn't take a brain surgeon to figure out what they were talking about. He looked over at Shaw and gave him a glare. Shaw simply shrugged and grinned, mouthing "Sorry, buddy."

Best rapped the desk in front of him with the book in his hand. "Is there something going on that is more important than what I am saying," he asked, glaring around the room.

Several "No sir" and "Sorry, sir" were said, and the room settled into quiet again. Sam noticed Andi looking at him with a smirk on her face. He rolled his eyes but grinned. She turned away to concentrate on Best again.

When parade ended, most of the officers came by and made a comment about the fact that he was dating the woman whom he'd rescued. He tried to deal with the general teasing and ribbing he received with some friendly jabs of his own. Epstein, though, received a not so friendly smack on the back of the head and a warning glare when he commented, "Swarek scores with the rich chick. I guess that means you'll be rich soon too."

When it was just Andi standing in front of him, she looked at him with a small smile. "Are you happy, Sam? Does she make you happy?"

"Yeah," he answered, nodding. "Yeah, she really does."

"Then I'm thrilled for you." She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. After she stepped back, she turned to walk away saying cheekily over her shoulder, "But I am going to miss having you as a backup boyfriend."

"_What?_"

"You know," she said, turning around and walking backwards, "the guy you call on when you need a wedding date, or a ride, or something like that." She turned and continued walking away.

"Honey," he called after her, grinning. "I'm no one's backup."

* * *

Author's Note: Thanks for reading, and please review!


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